


point me in the direction of the last setting sun

by orphan_account



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/F, M/M, Science Boyfriends, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:24:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1198572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were two women standing against the end of the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	point me in the direction of the last setting sun

_“…she remembered watching a summer sunset from this very spot. Not so long ago; just a lifetime.”_

  
_  
_Sharon Kay Penman

-

She’s pretty sure she’s absolutely head over heels for this girl. Of course, the world has gone to shit, and giant aliens are literally threatening to destroy everything in existence. But, hey, she’s young, got a killer haircut, some wicked ass tattoos, and a fairly decent rack, and she’s on her way to becoming a scientific rock star. They’re gonna write her name in every single textbook for the next twenty years.  She's got some time to get it in.

 

As for the object of her affection, they aren’t exclusive, nor have they actually met face to face in real life. Whatever, though, those are minor nuances. They met, or rather started talking, through a forum about the scientific nature of the Breach. It was love at first keystroke. Newt spent the entire night in front of her computer screen with three cans of Red Bull and unbridled enthusiasm. Contrary to popular belief, she was brilliant. Whoever was on the other side of the screen was the first person who treated her like such. Hell, it was the first person who treated her like an equal.

 

That night and eight whirlwind months later, they had exchanged emails, cell numbers, several playlists, and one really old Marina & The Diamonds concert shirt.

 

Her name was Doctor Hermione Gottlieb. It had nothing to do with the character though, she divulged, Hermione was by far her favorite Harry Potter character. She was born in Germany, did some graduate work at Oxford, and currently taught mathematics and introductory engineering at Free University Berlin. Her favorite movie was Sunshine. She likes to read trashy romance novels on long plane rides. She also likes to scribble equations in blue ink in those trashy romance novels. She speaks German and English fluently, Dutch, Greek, and Italian conversationally, and absolutely no Spanish or French. She hates social media with the burning passion of, like, ten suns but keeps a facebook to stay in touch with her siblings. Her favorite place to buy clothes is at the thrift shop. She loves public transportation.

 

On a scale of one to ten, how much of a total babe was Hermione Gottlieb? Irrelevant, she completely and totally broke the scale.

 

Of course, they were both ecstatic when they were both assigned to the Shatterdome in Lima. Fighting alien invaders might not be the most romantic first meeting, but, come on, it was probably one of the coolest. Newt spent the week leading up to her departure haphazardly throwing her clothes into a duffle, writing some emails relinquishing her position at the stuffy think tank she worked at, and with her Hitachi plugged into the wall, imagining the way her name would sound like on Hermione’s tongue.

 

-

 

Lima was just as cool she imagined it. The sun was bright, and the weather constantly warm enough for t-shirts and shorts. The entire city was packed with some of the brightest minds the world had ever seen, drinking,  lecturing, and just being totally awesome. There was a constant rush of thousands of ‘revolucionarios’ as they were calling themselves assembling Jaegers, conducting research, and taping on computers and tablets. The air was electric. This was the place to be. This was the front line between the monsters and humanity.  This was where history was going to be made.

 

Newt was more than ready to get to work.

 

She wrapped her worn leather jacket around her hips and dragged her duffle behind her. She followed obediently behind some dude who’s only job seemed to be drink copious amounts of coffee and lead the newbies around on tours. His name was Tendo. Which was rad. He had ten tattoos and pompadour that looked indestructible. Still rad. He dressed like he walked off the tumblr blog she ran when she was nineteen. Rad. He spent time in prison for a crime he refused to talk about. Hella rad. She would have been on him in two point four seconds if this had been another life, if he wasn’t going to be her co-worker for the foreseeable future, and if she was into, you know, men.

 

But alas, she would just have to take him up on his offer to go drinking tonight. Margaritas practically ran through her veins, and her social life had pretty much dead for the last couple months.

 

She nodded as earnestly while Tendo talked about the mess hall, the showers and stuff, the medical center, and where to report lab injuries, problems amongst co-workers, and other crimes like theft and sexual assault. She winked at four different J-Tech engineers and one pretty hot American pilot. She had a strict 'no-sleeping-with-people-I-work-with' policy, however copious amounts of bad flirting weren't in violation of said policy. A girl's got needs. She practically buzzed with excitement, though, as Tendo scanned his ID for the lab. This was it. Complete and total access to the most cutting edge program in the entire world was all hers. She hit the proverbial scientific jackpot.

 

Twenty people rushed back and forth, white lab coats trailing behind them. There was the constant tap of computers only interrupted by short bursts of English, Spanish, German, and Chinese. Huge specimens were suspended in fluid against the walls. Chalkboards and whiteboards were covered with chemical formulas and complex mathematical equations. It was nerd paradise. It was a nerd orgasam. It was hers.

 

She opened her mouth to express just how fucking cool this was, but she was immediately interrupted.  

 

“Marshall,” someone with a heavy Spanish accent squawked. The effect was immediate. The entire lab stopped, saluted, and then went back to their work. She obviously knew that was she was working for a paramilitary organization, but damn, that was just freaky. She was under the assumption that she was a scientist not a soldier. Maybe at this point, the lines were blurred, but still, she was exactly thrilled with the idea of saluting amd marching and whatever.

 

The things she did for science, man.

 

The marshal breezed in easily, saluting crisply. Tendo returned it and nudged her to do the same. She practically whacked herself in the head in her rush.

 

When everyone watched Marshall Pentecost, their eyes practically lit up. He was obviously a man used to be in charge. Which, honestly, wasn’t that big of surprise because this guy has earned it. Survived the death of his co-pilot without losing his mind. Piloted a solo session. Saved a major world city. Adopted a kid. Currently raising said kid. This guy was a boss if there ever was one. He was single handedly lead them all to victory.

 

“Commander Choi,” he clipped with a reserved British accent, “and?”

 

Newt jumped and held out her hand. The marshall shook it slowly. His eyes traced her body with a slight disapproving frown.

 

“I’m Doctor Nichelle Geiszler, but call me Newt. Only my mother calls me ‘Doctor’.” The words tumbled out of her mouth. “Oh, and if you’re worried about the shorts, which I totally get, safety hazard, I can change. I bought pants. And closed toed shoes. And my own computer in case I need one.”

 

She realized she was still shaking his hand. She let it go immediately. He carefully smoothed out his coat.

 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Geiszler.” The marshall folded his arms behind his back. “Pants and closed toed shoes are required only in the lab and when working in J-Tech. You will be issued a work computer however you are more than welcome to keep your own for personal use. You will also be outfitted with a lab coat that is yours both to keep and to maintain. I expect you will make a wonderful edition to the team. I am assured you won’t let me down?”

 

“Right. Of course. I wouldn’t even dream of it, Marshal Pentecost, uh, sir.” She babbled.

 

“Then you’ll allow me to introduce you to our other recruit.” He gestured to the a young woman who has limped up beside him. Her hair hung loosely at her sides with a slight hint of an undercut only visible from the side. She wore a loose fitting sweater that was both super expensive and super inappropriate for this weather. Her trousers are just as loose. The hems drag along the ground, the khaki now a dirty grey. She clings to a wooden cane for dear life. “Dr. Geiszler, I’d like you to meet Dr. Hermione Gottlieb.”

 

“Mein Gott,” they rasped together.

 

Hermione was her opposite, like her exact opposite.  Where she was short and, as she will attest to her dying breath, curvy, Hermione was tall and lanky. She was completely unprofessional in shorts, a tank top she DIY'd out of a Studio Killers' shirt, and flip flops, Hermione looked like she stepped out of a brochure for Harvard. Hermione held the confidence of someone who adored the system because the system had always adored them. Newt spent her entire life making a job out of rebelling against.

 

 

“Herms?” Newt asked, pushing her hand through her hair.

 

“Don’t call me that in a professional setting,” Hermione snapped back with a surprising amount of venom behind it. Her British accent was just as clipped and posh and absolutely delicious as Newt imagined it.

 

Newt can’t help herself. Really, she just can’t. Her mental filter is firmly and permanently stuck on the ‘off’ position. “Would you rather I call you that in an unprofessional setting? Because that could be arranged.”

 

Tendo chuckled, hiding his smile in his hand. Hermione’s entire faced turned an unflattering shade of red out of rage or embarrassment or both. Newt couldn’t tell. The marshal looked at them sternly.

 

“This won’t be a problem, will it, ladies?”

 

“Nien,” Hermione practically hissed and stalked away.

 

Not exactly how Newt imagined meeting the girl she had been in love with for at least the last eight months.

 

-

 

She likes Tendo. She likes him a lot. He has a wonderful sense of style, can drink her under the table, and nods sympathetically at all the right times. Over the course of two tequila shots, one beer, and three margaritas, she pours her heart out to him. She tells him about her mother, her father, her uncle, her cousins. She tells him about her impressive amount of Ph.D’s and the crippling loneliness she felt because of this wonderful, atypical,  creative brain she called her own. She tells him about Hermione, the code she can’t crack, and everything she is and everything she wanted her to be.

 

His only question is why her name is so damn strange.

 

Her parents had three things in common, she tells him. They liked music. They liked cheating on their respective spouses. They really liked the original Star Trek series.  

 

-

 

They argue.

 

They argue about everything.

 

It’s kind of wonderful.

 

This was everything Newt ever dreamed she would be, though. She has her own part of the lab to call her own. She tacks up an old cork board she found in the trash in the back, away from layers of science and math. It fills quickly.Emails from universities commending her for her work go on the left. Pictures of her and the friends she never thought she’d make take up most of the middle. Her little cousin’s letter in eloquent German script are on the bottom left. The entire right section is formal complaints issued against her from one Hermione E. Gottlieb. (Newt still doesn’t know what the ‘E’ stands for and it is infuriating.)

 

There’s a whole arrangement of them, those damn complaint forms. About half of them are noise complaints which are no surprise. Herms doesn’t like her electro pop. She absolutely hated the old Jay-Z and Kanye West CDs she pirates. She doesn’t like disco, calls it a “forsaken racket.” She was definitely not a classic rock fan, and for some reason, despised Kurt Cobain. Once, just to see if the same result would happen, call it hypothesis testing, Newt played classical music at a completely sensible level. The next day the same complaint was sitting neatly on her desk.

 

Her hypothesis was correct. This was purely a personal matter. That frigid little bitch.

 

They keep on coming though. There’s practically a new slip of paper on her desk every morning. Dr. Geiszler is unprofessional. Dr. Geiszler is in complete disregard of proper dress code. Dr. Geiszler is clearly in violation of their contracts. Dr. Geiszler is this. Dr. Geiszler is that. Whatever, it all blended together.

 

In fact, these complaints were constants that Newt took pride in. The world was round. The sky was blue. The sun was going to shine. The kaiju were going to keep coming out of the ocean. Dr. Gottlieb was going to level complaints against Dr. Geiszler.

 

By the sixth month there, the lab was divided into thirds. One third sided with Hermione, one third sided with Newt, and the other third just wanted to push the aliens back to wherever they came from and go the hell home. There was a war outside. They were facing down the enemy. That last third, they didn’t have time to face an internal war as well.

 

And a war it was.  

 

They were the first people in the lab every morning. The smell of instant coffee mixed with the scent of musky perfumes brought from home and the ammonia of biology. The other scientists arrived, eyelids still heavy with sleep, to the sounds angry shouting and seething slurs. It mellowed at lunch. Words lose part of their venom, but the volley is continuous. After dinner, they switch to German. Their voices are soft as they continue to whisper harshly at one another. It’s almost a ritual as they work late until the night. Some nights they even sleep where they fall, an bitter word for the other still on their lips.

 

It really is wonderful.

 

-

 

It doesn’t last.

 

They never call it shutting down.

 

The marshal grumbled about it unhappily but never did he call it shutting down. To call it shutting down was to admit defeat. To call it shutting down was to admit there was a very real chance that they were going to be on the losing end of this battle. So the marshal called it consolidation. They were relocating. They were using their resources wisely.

 

They were canning people.

 

Support crews, janitors, cooks, blue collar jobs were the first to go. Lima natives were most of them, and they were pushed out on the unforgiving streets of their city. Pilots were already dropping like flies. A dead one here. A crazy one there. Then it came time for everyone else.

 

Slips of paper were tacked to every door. Every Shatterdome was color coated. Sydney was a letter in yellow. Anchorage and operation base of San Francisco were red. Research centers in Mexico, Japan, and the UK were in blue. Various other places were denoted by pinks, oranges, and greys. Though everyone was absolutely terrified of plain white letters.

 

A white letter meant you were done. That was it. A transport would deliver you to the largest city in your country of origin unless you specified otherwise. You were responsible for your own transport from there. All of your goods left behind were now property of the PPDC. Your last paycheck would be deposited into your bank account in your preferred form of currency. Thank you for your service to your family, your country, your planet. Have a good life unless we all die in the coming apocalypse.

 

Newt and Hermione were the first to clean out their parts of the lab. They worked together in silent tandem. Computers and specimens were packed into boxes. Lab tables were disinfected. Chalkboards were erased and then cleaned with warm soap and water. Cork boards were stipped of their papers. Coffee makers were disassembled. Any remnants of life were gone.  

 

“Where are you headed, Hermie?” Newt asked as she wiped sweat from her forehead.

 

Hermione was either too tired, too bitter, or too disappointed to fight her about the name. She just fished a folded piece of green paper and tossed into onto the floor. Newt tossed her own down next to it.

 

“The think tank or the ‘dome, babe?” She continued to press.

 

“The Shatterdome in Anchorage, Alaska.”

 

Newt surveyed the half empty room. They had more shit between the two of them than she realized. The other scientists were slowly trickling in. A few placed their own blue, orange, red papers in the little paper stack the two of them started. The last five were white. Nervous chatter floated around them. Soft sobs came bursting through.

 

“Well then,” Newt slapped her on her back. Hermione seized forward, wooden cane saving her from falling on the concrete floor. “I’ll see you in Alaska. Oh, and don’t forget, babe. You’ll be on my territory now.”

 

-

 

America was like a homecoming despite the fact that Newt was neither American nor had she ever lived in Alaska. But she delighted in it anyway. She ate McDonalds with Tendo and some other people for the lab, watched the trashy TV that only Americans could consider still showing, and painted her nails the same color as kaiju blue. She happily tutored Mako Mori in science, English, and the art of hair dying with a dash of rebellion. She acted as a wingwoman for Tendo at the four clubs that remained in this forsaken town. She had some really excellent sex for the first time in, like, ten months. She continued to irritate the shit out of Herms, seeing how far she could bend her before she snapped.

 

For the first time in a long time, she lives.

 

Then she doesn’t.

 

The alarms blazed to life. Something wicked this way comes, and Newt more than intended to see it. She lept out of bed pulling on a pair of boots without socks and a ratty MIT sweatshirt. She ran through the hallway pushing her way through the crowds surrounding LOCCENT. Of course, Hermione had already beaten her two it. She sat on an empty chair, silken robe touching the floor. Her oversized parka was draped over her bony shoulders. One of these days, Newt was going to have to tell this girl how to dress.

 

Today was not that day.

 

She wedged her way in between Hermione and some J-Tech officer. Mako was pressed up against the back wall, taking it all in. The marshal leaned over the microphone with Tendo nestled next to him, typing away.

 

“What’s going on?” She asked Hermione breathlessly.

 

“A kaiju. Codename Knifehead. Gipsy Danger was deployed and is currently engaging after disobeying direct orders.” Hermione tapped her cane against the floor. “It doesn’t look good.”.

 

Somewhere someone screams.

 

Somewhere else someone sobs.

 

Newt snapped around so hard she nearly gets whiplash. Livefeed was displayed everywhere. People crained to get a view of Gipsy Danger being literally torn in half. Voices rose and fell and peaked and silenced. Everyone was shaking. The sound of someone retching was clearly audible.

 

“What’s happening?” Hermione screamed over the din of the confined space.

 

Newt stood there, motionless. There are shouts and sobs and people are grabbing each other. The marshal walked out, the hysterical crowds parting to let him through. Mako slinked after him, face wet. Tendo’s voice was thick was emotion as it filled up the room and crackled over the speakers.

 

“Hail Mary, full of grace.” Newt didn’t believe in a god. She believed in herself. She believed in science, in power, in logic, and in reason. She believed that was going to save them was themselves. But she continues with him. She continued with him with everything she had. “The Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now at the hour of our death. Amen.”

 

Hermione rose to her feet, a good head taller than Newt. Newt impulsively grabbed her hand. Together they watched as the remains of Gipsy Danger hobbled to shore. Hermione’s mouth turned in a grimace. She began to shiver violently, her grip on Newt’s hand tighter.

 

“Nichelle?”

 

“Hermione?”

 

“What is happening?”

 

“I think we watched one of the pilots die."

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Let’s go to bed, Nichelle.”

 

“Alright.”

 

In a completely uncharacteristic move,  they walked together, slinking through the halls. Newt scanned them into her in. They laid together, squashed in Newt’s single bed, and they never slept a wink. They never touched. They never arose until around eight the next night. There was no night and day in this place. The Shatterdome was artificially lit all the same whether it was one in the morning or one in the afternoon. They just faced the monsters that laid in wait, ready to strike in their minds.

 

They could ignore it in Lima, but it came to confront them here. They were losing. The world was losing faith in them. They were losing faith in themselves. The noose was tightening around their necks.

 

Hermione was the first to cry.

Newt never brought it up.

 

-

 

They called it the ‘Wall of Life’.

 

They called it the 'Wall of Life', and it was the stupidest fucking thing Newt’s ever heard of.

 

Raleigh Becket was going to work on it because he literally had no other redeemable skills after he said he didn’t want anyone else in his head. The golden light of the Becket brothers had been extinguished. Days after he left, the paper slips were tacked up to doors. It was happening again. Not shutting down, but pushing others out. This time they didn’t even try to fight it. They just accepted it with heavy heads and heavier hearts.

 

Hermione’s father invented it, this dumb 'Wall of Life'. Hermione’s father invented it, and she deliberately published a paper on how it was mathematically doomed to fail.

 

As they packed themselves up again, Newt carefully took sidelong glances at her partner. Herms was more of a badass than she gave her credit for.

 

“Sydney, I presume, Dr. Geiszler?” Hermione washed the last of the expansive chalkboard and knocked Newt out of her thoughts. Part of the soapy water sloshed across the floor. Hermione looked down in disgust.

 

“Yeah,” Newt packed away her scalpel and goggles. “I think they like to keep us together.”

 

“God forbid I get a little peace and quiet,” whispered Hermione bitterly.

 

Newt tossed an eraser at the clean chalkboard. It hit and released a large cloud of chalk dust. Hermione growled. Newt laughed. She carefully sipped her already cold coffee.

 

“You’d miss me, Fraulein Doktor.”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’re comparing me to morphine addicted German spy.”

“Ah, you have seen that movie. Then you would have known that it was based Elsbeth Schragmüller who was one of the first German women to receive a degree. Which is totally rad, by the way. German women for the win.” 

Hermione limped over and poured herself a cup of black coffee. She tasted it, made a face, and kept drinking. “You would also know that she had a degree in political science rather than mathematics or physics. Your analogy is flawed at its core.” 

 

Newt sipped again. “If we survive this, we should totes tag team on Jeopardy.”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes again. “I don’t think that’s allowed.”

 

“I’ll see you in the land down under, Dr. Gottlieb.” Newt smiled softly.

 

“Likewise, Dr. Gieszler.”

  
  


-

 

“You’re going to pierce her ears?” Hermione’s voice was shrill as she tapped away on her computer. “Is that even sanitary? Or safe?”

 

Mako shifted apprehensively under Newt’s fingers. Her knuckles grew white as she grabbed the side of the table. Chuck laughed beside her. He tapped on his cell phone with a speed that would probably rival Hermione, if she had a cell phone. Or you know friends. Newt just rolled up her sleeves, colorful tattoos out for all to see. She pulled the cap of a black marker with her teeth and spit it out. It hit the floor, once, twice, three times before it rolled underneath a stack of reference books that she just ordered from France.

 

“Babe, relax,” she drawled. “I’ve done this before.”

 

“Don’t call me that in public,” snapped Hermione. She slammed her hand down the table. Her cane, which had been propped up against the desk, fell to the floor with a thud. All four of them stopped and stared although none of them made a move to pick it up. Hermione groaned. “Shit.”

 

“Chuck, pick up the babe’s cane.” Newt instructed as she fished in her jeans pocket for a few bobby pins. She twisted the strands of blue hair that were framing Mako’s face and pinned them back. Chuck didn’t move.

 

“I don’t take orders from you.” Chuck shoved his phone into his pocket. “And what exactly did you pierce yourself?”

 

“When I was seventeen, I pierced my ear four times when I was drunk.” Newt smiled as Hermione gapped at her. “Oh, be quiet. I saw those holes in your ears. You had some wicked piercings at one time in your life, ba-.”

 

“Don’t. I am not your babe, Nichelle.”

 

Newt shrugged. “Alright, whatever. Anyway, where was I, oh yeah. When I was nineteen I pierced my belly button on a trip to the beach with my then boyfriend who was a tool, by the way. When I got my second doctorate I pierced my nose. I looked hot. Should have kept that it. Oh and the day before I left for San Francisco, I pierced my eyebrow, but it got infected. Kept the earrings and the belly button ring though.”

 

“Don’t you think that excessive?” Chuck asked, leaping out of his chair.

 

“You’re excessive.”

 

“Dr Gieszler, that doesn’t make any sense.” Mako told her. “And no one picked up Dr Gottlieb’s cane yet.”

 

“That’s because Chuck’s a little bitch.” Newt drew little ‘x’s on Mako’s caritaliage. “Besides clearly you and I can’t because we are busy.”

 

“Packing, I should hope.” A deep voice reverberated against the walls.

 

“Marshal!” Hermione tried to stand and salute. She waivered, shook, and then again collapsed into her chair. Chuck stared suspiciously at the marshal. Mako ducked out of Newt’s grip and bowed.

 

“Why are we packing?” Hermione asked as she made a futile effort to grab at her cane. Newt snuck past Chuck and tossed it towards her. Hermione caught it out of the air with more grace than Newt thought was humanly possible. She hoisted herself out of the chair and smoothed her hair and skirt.

 

Newt couldn’t help but stare. Yeah, hypothesis confirmed. She was still a total babe.

 

“If you’ll pay attention...” The marshal directed a pointed glare at Newt. She blushed. “Then I would tell you that the K-Science team along with Mako and myself are to report to Hong Kong tomorrow at eight hundred hours for further instruction. Meanwhile, Rangers Hansen and Hansen will meet us there at a later date.”

 

Hermione hobbled forward. “Marshal, I mean no disrespect...”

 

“But?” He raised an eyebrow.

 

“There is no way the two of us can properly pack up our lab in less than a day.”

 

The marshal smiled. “Well, than it’s a good thing you have Ranger Hansen and Mako to help you.”

 

Chuck’s mouth hung open. Mako elbowed his ribs. Her narrowed his eyes at her. It was hard to imagine that both of them where past twenty. Newt remembered them at ten. God, she was getting old, and she was getting old spending her entire life playing musical chairs with Shatterdomes.

 

“Well, I’ll see you all in Hong Kong. It’s been a pleasure, ladies and gentlemen.” The marshal turned on his heel and left.

 

“Hey Chuck.”

 

“Dr Geiszler.”

 

“Start mopping the floors, you little bitch.”

 

She pretended she didn’t see Hermione giggle into her hands.

  
  


-

 

Hong Kong blows.

 

Chuck was a little bitch.

 

Raleigh is probably a little bitch.

 

Hannibal Chau’s definitely a huge bitch.

 

Seven people are dead.

 

And she had a mental threeway with some aliens and her crush cum co-worker cum probable mortal enemy.

  
  


\-  

 

“You never told me you loved me.”

 

Hermione drummed her fingers against the concrete. Hong Kong was still burning. Smoke tendrils lifted and twisted across the darkening evening sky. The sound of shouts, emergency vehicles, and car horns mixed with the sounds of music and laughter coming in from the celebrating Shatterdome. The world survived. The two of them survived with nothing more than some eye damage and a few scrapes. They were lucky. They were so, so, so lucky. Except, Newt never planned on living long enough to see this day. She kind of thought she was going to die before she would ever tell Hermione the truth.

 

Ah, wishful thinking.

 

“You never told me you were married. That’s kind of a huge thing to forget to tell someone.”

 

Hermione chuckled, a sound that was soft and light and filled the empty space between them. Newt scowled.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Do you love him?” Newt asked, her hand hovered over Hermione’s. “Like do you really really love him?”

 

“More than anything.” She admitted. Newt smiled and got up to start walking to the door back into the Shatterdome. Hermione did her best to scrabble after her. Her cane’s taps echoed across the empty roof.  She finally caught up as Newt was about to open the door.

 

“Is that it?” She asked as she pushed her cane on the door to keep it closed. Newt pulled, but the door remained shut.

 

“You have some wicked upper arm strength, dude.” Newt’s voice sounded soft and sad, unlike anything Hermione had heard from her before. She seemed devoid of life like she was beyond tired. Like she was weary.

 

“Don’t try to deflect this, Nichelle. We have to talk.”

 

Newt let her hand drop from the handle. She shoved them into her pockets. “About what?”

 

“Us, goddamnit. We have to talk about us. You’ve been in love with me for years, but you just ask if I’m happy with my husband. I don’t understand.” Hermione stomped her cane on the ground.

 

“You listen here, Hermione Emilie Gottlieb,” Newt whipped around on her heel. “I am a lot of things, but I am not a homewrecker. Of course I love you. I always have. I always will. I want you to be happy. And if you truly are happy, then I don’t want anything else. You deserve it.”

 

Hermione stood dumbfounded. Newt smiled serenely in return, all anger gone from her face. She kissed Hermione’s forehead. Her lips were chapped and dry and warm against Hermione’s skin. Her hands braced on Hermione’s shoulders. She traced her collarbone, and then she was gone. Newt opened the door and started to walk down the stairs.

 

“How do you know my middle name?” Hermione called after her.

 

There’s a tinkling laughter and a response that drifts up the stairs along with the sound of bad karaoke. “I’ve been inside your head, babe.”

 

Hermione stood on the roof alone.

 

“Please call me that.” She said to no one in particular.  

  
  


-

 

They pack up their things side by side for the last time. A cigarette hung out of the corner her mouth. The fliture was stained pink from her lipstick. Skype is on from the last of their computers that had yet to be packed into one of the cardboard boxes. Hermione stops every so often to exchange short little conversations with her husband.

 

He was hot, she’ll give him that. His eyes were this gorgeous blue color that are vivid against his dark skin and even darker hair. He had cheekbones that could literally cut diamonds. He was kind of funny, and Hermione laughed more in ten minutes than Newt thought she had heard in ten years.

 

Newt kind of wanted to puke. She took a deep drag of her cigarette. It’s a nasty ass habit,  jealousy is definitely a bitch, and self control is hard.

  
  


-

 

They meet again in a sleepy little cafe tucked away in Berlin.

 

“So you’re divorced?” Newt asked, sipping her expresso.

 

“So I’m divorced.” Hermione sipped at her own mug of tea.

 

“You wanna sleep together?” Newt smiled over her cup.

 

“You’ll have to take me to dinner first.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

 

“How’s tomorrow at seven?” Newt pulled her phone out of her pocket.

 

“Wonderful.”

 

Newt’s fingers flew over the touchscreen.

 

**To Tendo** : _[i am 1 smooth bitch.]_

**From Tendo** : _[use protection.]_

 

“Newt, what are you smiling about?” Hermione placed her mug on the table.

  
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> eh, genderbends are kind of cissexist by default so remember gender does not equal genitals. 
> 
> also, k-science ladies or bust.


End file.
